


Sometime After Midnight

by fromGallifreytoGallitep (sykira)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Garashir - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sykira/pseuds/fromGallifreytoGallitep
Summary: Please note warning, this is the aftermath of sexual assault, but nothing graphic - I used the violence and rape archive warnings out of an abundance of caution only.This is set early on in DS9's run.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	Sometime After Midnight

Doctor Bashir’s quarters were pitch black when his commbadge crackled to life sometime after midnight.

_“Garak to Bashir”_

The communication cut off almost before he had got out his whole name. Julian was instantly alert, a sense of foreboding creeping over him. Sitting bolt upright in bed, he fumbled for his commbadge.

“Bashir here.”

Silence greeted him in return. He pulled on his uniform hurriedly.

“Bashir to Garak.”

He didn’t wait for a response this time before he grabbed for his medkit.

“Computer, locate Garak.”

_“Garak is in his quarters.”_

“Emergency medical transport, Bashir to Garak’s quarters.”

He materialized into darkness, but he didn’t need his eyes to know something was very wrong; there was the unmistakable metallic tang of blood in the air – a _lot_ of blood.

“Computer, lights!”

A soft cry from the floor drew his attention. Garak was curled up on his side on the floor behind the couch. He twisted away from the light as it illuminated the room, glinting off shards of a broken glass.

Julian dropped down on his knees beside him. “Computer, lights to fifty percent.”

“No! Julian, be careful…” He held a hand to ward him away, or possibly to indicate the far side of the couch, Julian couldn’t be sure, Garak was shaking so badly.

It took all his self-control and training to wrench his attention away from his patient, but Garak was right – scene safety was paramount – he would be no use to him if his attacker took him out too. So Julian took precious seconds to scan the room, his eyes alighting on the prone form of a Cardassian he didn’t recognize. Garak’s attacker was immobile, and judging from the dark pool around him, possibly already dead. Julian used his tricorder to run a quick diagnostic: life signs, but they were weak.

“He’s unconscious, Garak.” He turned back to his patient, slowly processing the places that his uniform was ripped as a coldness stole around his spine. He reached for a throw blanket from the couch as he knelt back down beside him. It was some kind of flimsy silk fabric but it would have to do.

He was running his scanner over him when Garak batted it away. “Julian, if he hurts you…” he managed, his voice agonized.

Bashir leaned back on his haunches as he finished a preliminary scan. “Okay, it’s okay, Garak,” he soothed, buying himself a few precious seconds to ascertain that none of the injuries were life threatening, and doing his best to keep his features blank as he met Garak’s eyes.

“I need to call Security.”

“No, please, Julian…I can’t. Just you. Not anybody else.” His chin trembled. 

“Garak—” Much as he told himself it was a perfectly normal reaction, everything about this was so unlike him it was unnerving him. It only made him long to protect him all the more now his usual composed persona had disintegrated.

“You need to check he’s really out,” he said, through gritted teeth, his breath coming in shallow pants as he tried to sit up. Julian couldn’t tell if it was pain or panic—or both with the massive amount of adrenaline likely flooding his system.

“All right, all right. I’m going to check him, just stay still okay?” he said, as calmly as he could. He tamped down his instinct to reach out and touch Garak in some way – much as he ached to just place a gentle hand on his arm or guide him carefully by the shoulders to lie back down.

Muscles in Garak’s jaw tensed. “Go.”

He stood up, knowing nothing else would help his friend right now but making sure his assailant really was incapacitated.

Moving quickly through the living room he sidestepped the remains of the broken glass, noting the edges were coated in blood. Had it been used as a weapon? His scans had shown he hadn’t lost a lot of blood, so most of this had to be from the other man. 

He was cold to the touch—more than usual for a Cardassian. His pulse was weak, and the tricorder confirmed the blood was his, mostly from a slash cut to his throat—probably at close quarters given it must have been deep to have caused so much blood loss. 

Bashir worked quickly to beam him directly into the infirmary’s emergency cryostasis chamber, ignoring the impulse to just let the Cardassian bleed out now that he had a sense of what he had done to Garak. _Could be he’s past saving anyway,_ he mused.

He wasted no time in getting back to his patient. Garak was still breathing with difficulty. Julian crouched down at his side. “Can you lie back for me, Garak? It might make it easier to breathe if your ribs are broken.”

Garak startled at his voice, and Julian’s eyebrows drew down in concern. He had only been a few feet away—either Garak was drifting in and out of consciousness or he was dissociating from the trauma—at this point Julian didn’t know which was worse. He resisted the urge to scan him again, figuring it was more important to keep Garak’s attention on him.

“Dead?” he whispered and shivered.

“He’s gone. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.” Seeing him so vulnerable like this was ripping him apart, and again he felt that pang of wishing the monster who attacked was _really_ gone, in a more final sense.

“He’s dead?” Garak repeated.

“He’s in cryostasis. We will deal with him later.”

Garak looked up at him, his teeth sinking into his trembling lower lip. “Cold,” he said.

“I know.” He spoke as softly as he could. “You’re in shock. I’m going to transport us to the infirmary, okay?”

Garak winced and shook his head.

Julian placed his hand, fingers outstretched, on the carpet beside him. It was the best he could do to stop himself reaching out to comfort him.

“Okay,” he breathed. “I will need to take you to the infirmary, you look like you are having difficulty breathing and you might have broken ribs,” he took a breath, “and other injuries I can patch up better there. But for now let’s just start with some pain meds.”

Garak didn’t say anything, just seemed to retreat inside herself as Julian prepared a hypospray. But when he moved to touch it to his neck Garak jerked away from him, his forehead creasing in pain.

Julian brought his hand back, dropping his chin almost to his chest as he regarded him.

Garak’s hand still hovered in the air between them. “It’s just…he…there was something in the glass, he drugged me.”

Julian’s jaw set. That explained the strange blood chemistry readings he thought he had seen earlier, but he hadn’t had a chance to scan him properly yet. He lifted up the tricorder, careful not to make any sudden movements, and glanced at the readings again, nodding slowly. 

“He gave you a flunitrazepam derivative, with ketamine…and,” he tilted his head, trying to decipher the chemical structure, “possibly scopolamine.” _He really wasn’t taking chances that you’d be able to fight back,_ he thought darkly. 

He would be able to run a more thorough analysis in the infirmary, but for now he had to focus on helping him to relax and let him take him there. “I’d still like to give you something for the pain, it’s non-sedating and won’t interact with what you’ve been given.”

Garak nodded, pressing his lips together tightly as Julian moved towards him again and gently pressed the hypospray to his throat, watching him closely. Once he retreated again Garak’s eyes closed. 

Julian kept his body still, but his mind was working a million miles a minute, trying to process the levels of sedative-hypnotic and narcotic drugs in Garak’s bloodstream compared to what he had memorized of Cardassian reference ranges. From what he could work out, the distance from where Garak lay to where he was now, behind the couch, was probably all he could manage in the direction of the door before the drugs took full effect. Or maybe they still hadn’t fully kicked in – he needed a timeline.

He waited until Garak opened his eyes again. “Better?” he asked softly.

He nodded.

“Garak, after you got away from him, or at any point, did you lose consciousness?”

“No, I…don’t think so. I tried to get to the door but my legs…then I called you.”

“Okay.” He offered him a small smile. “You did great.”

He half expected a snarky retort and being told off for patronizing him or something, but Garak didn’t react to his words at all, and his vision was unfocused. The smile fell from Julian’s face, his stomach churning.

“Garak, we need to call Security.”

That got his attention. He flinched, but Julian steeled himself and pressed on, his voice softening. “This room is a crime scene. I know it’s hard to think straight right now, but for all we know that man could recover and charge you with attempted murder. It’s clear to me this is self-defense, but we need to get security here to document the evidence so there is no question.”

Garak swallowed, his fingers tightening like talons on the throw blanket. 

Julian leaned in, his voice dropping. “Let me get you out of here before we call them, okay? I’ll keep you in a private room in the infirmary. You won’t have to see anyone or answer any questions until you are ready.” 

Garak shrank in on herself.

Julian added, “and I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.” He hoped that wasn’t being too presumptuous…but he had called _him_ , and earlier he had insisted he not tell anyone else.

Garak pressed his fingertips into his forehead, then nodded.

Bashir exhaled in relief.

“Julian?” His voice was so raw it didn’t even sound like Garak. “Do you have to tell them…” He swallowed, still looking down.

He ducked his head to catch his eyes. “Not if you don’t want to. All we need to say is that he attacked you and you fought back, and that you both suffered injuries as a result. The nature of…the assault we can omit – for now or always, it’s up to you. Unless of course he talks about it, should he ever wake up.”

He drew a shaky breath. “Thank you,” he said simply, lifting his chin.

Julian gave him a thin, wry smile. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes.”

Slowly becoming aware that he was looming over Garak, Julian straightened up and stepped back, looking around for the stool. Sitting down beside him, he hoped now being at eye level would help his patient feel less intimidated. He glanced at the bio readings.

“Garak? Are you still in pain? I can give you more—”

“No. No more drugs, Julian.” Garak’s voice was weak, so what had probably been intended to be said forcefully came out as more of a hoarse whisper.

“Okay. You got it.” Julian’s voice was gentle. His hand hovered close to Garak, he so desperately wanted to comfort him but was afraid to touch him and further traumatize him. Garak met his eyes and for a moment neither moved. 

Then, his hand shaking, Garak reached for him and clumsily entwined their fingers. “Thank you, doctor,” he breathed.

Exhaling with relief that he wasn’t repelled by another man’s touch, Bashir wrapped Garak’s hand in both of his.

“When can I go home?” Garak asked faintly. He sounded so exhausted it tugged at Julian. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said gently. Thinking of that blood-splattered crime scene that was Garak’s quarters made his stomach churn. He didn’t want Garak anywhere near there—not to mention that if Julian could convince Garak to press charges, or if his assailant died, they would need to process his quarters for evidence that it was self-defense. 

“If you stay here I’ll be right here all night,” he broke off, Garak was shaking his head.

“…Or I could arrange new quarters for you?”

“Then they’ll know.” He said it so quietly Julian had to lean in to catch his words.

“Who?”

“Everyone.”

Julian sucked in a breath. “Would you consider staying with me?”

Garak looked up at him, surprise registering in his features.

“I have a guest room now,” he added quickly. “Ever since the last time Keiko and Molly went off on an expedition and I got fed up sleeping on Miles’ couch listening to him snore.”

He was still looking at him uncomprehendingly.

“He sometimes gets sleep apnea. When he’s hit the whiskey too hard. The good stuff. When Keiko’s gone.”

“Oh. Maybe I just need Miles’ whiskey.” Garak tried to quirk a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I could give you something to help you sleep? Things would seem clearer once you got a good night’s rest?”

Fear sparked in Garak’s eyes and he shrank in on herself, giving one sharp head shake _no,_ the movement making him wince.

Julian flinched too, in sympathy, watching him, and mentally kicking himself – of course he wouldn’t want another man giving him drugs to incapacitate him. He risked a soft touch to his shoulder, just enough to offer support. Garak froze for a second, then leaned into him infinitesimally.

“Very well, just for tonight, I can stay with you?”

Relief washed over him. Wherever Garak spent the night he had no intention of leaving him alone anyway, and his spare room was already set up with every kind of sensor he could think of to monitor an inebriated O’Brien (and before that, Garak himself when he’d been recovering from his implant removal, but he had deliberately omitted mention of that tonight). This way he could keep a close eye on him while also giving him a little privacy – but he would only be steps away if he needed him.

“What about Lincet?”

“Lincet? That’s the other Cardassian’s name?”

He nodded, looking nauseous.

“He’s still in cryostasis. I did run some scans, he has lost a lot of blood. He will need to be prepped for surgery to try to repair the arteries if that’s even possible at this point. It may be too late for him. There will be a surgical team here from Bajor by morning, they will do what they can.”

Garak’s eyes went wide.

Bashir sat down slowly at his side and reached for his hand, taking it delicately. “If he never comes round then all anyone ever has to know is that he attacked you and you defended yourself. As I told you, the nature of what happened can stay between you and me, if that’s what you wish.”

He swallowed and looked down and the bedsheets. 

Julian’s thumb traced soothing patterns across the back of his hand. “But if he does recover…”

“There’s no telling what he’ll say – but to save face probably nothing, knowing him.” Garak’s voice was distant.

Julian nodded thoughtfully. “That’s very possible. I just want you to be prepared for whatever happens. But it’s nothing we need to deal with tonight. So just put him out of your mind, okay?” He squeezed his hand with the lightest pressure.

“Julian?”

“Mmm?”

“Why are you bringing in a surgical team?”

“That kind of injury is in so many areas that need simultaneous repair you need a team,” he said lightly.

“Are you going to be one of the team?”

He took a breath and rubbed his forehead. “No,” he said quietly.

He tilted his head.

“To be honest, Garak, first of all…if he does die, it could complicate things legally. You and I are friends, medical ethics boards could raise the issue that I wasn’t impartial and absent exigent circumstances I’m not the best choice.”

Garak dipped his head. “And secondly?”

He hesitated. “Right now, I’m not sure I want him to live,” he admitted, his lips twisting bitterly. He risked a glance at Garak, afraid he would see censure in his eyes. For a doctor to say such a thing was blasphemy, or at least it was in the world of Starfleet medical.

But maybe for Garak, his perspective was broader, for Julian saw surprise but no approbation in his expression.

“He said he wanted to kill himself.” Garak said mildly and looked away.

“Lincet?”

“I just remembered…things are hazy, but he showed up at my door—” He broke off and clasped Julian’s hand tighter, turning to him. “What he gave me…am I not going to remember any of this in the morning?” Julian saw the closest thing to panic in Garak’s eyes that he had ever seen, but it passed quickly as he recovered his usual masked expression.

Julian placed his hand over his, and patted him gently. “It’s okay, what was in the drug cocktail he gave you, it didn’t have memory loss effect. So yes, the it will make things hazy, but you won’t have the complete amnesia of some of the drugs that are used in these…situations.”

Garak nodded slowly.

“But, that’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about, if you are feeling up to it.”

Garak’s eyes flicked to his. Julian waited until he nodded again. “In case your recollection is hazier in the morning we could make a recording now – walk through what happened – just once and then it’s done. You never have to talk about it again, if you don’t want to. I have forensically-cleared recording devices so that they will hold up in any Federation court.”

Garak shrank back, dropping his head on the pillow and closing his eyes.

“I understand if you would rather I am not here, I can leave you alone, I’ll just be in the other room and I’ll leave you a buzzer to call me the second you are done or if you need me. For anything at all.” Julian looked for any reaction. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do tonight. It’s up to you.”

“Who will keep the recording?” Garak still kept his eyes closed.

“I can, for now, until you decide if you want to press charges.” Or unless this Lincet does and we need it to clear your name, he thought darkly. “Or you can hold onto it yourself if you would rather.”

He shook his head. “Thank you doctor, it’s a good idea, but in this case it won’t be necessary.” He looked up at him then. “What else?”

Julian tilted his head in question.

“I mean, what else did you want to talk to me about?”

He hesitated, not sure how to broach the next part, but encouraged that Garak’s eyes seemed clearer now than at any point since he had found him on the floor of his quarters.

Moving very slowly, he lifted Garak’s hand and nestled it between his again.

“I should take photographs of your injuries, ideally with someone in here as a secondary witness.”

Garak swallowed and shook his head. 

“Or…we could do a sexual assault evidence collection procedure.”

Garak’s eye ridges rose.

Knowing he was going to get shut down, Julian barreled on, just so Garak knew he had options. “Then we can seal all the evidence, photographic, physical, and audio, and store it in a specially encrypted section where no one will accidentally come across it. And if you never want to tell anyone else, you don’t have to, that will be it.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly at that, perhaps sensing Julian was done. “Thank you, doctor.” He looked up at him again. “That’s not all that you want me to do though, is it?”

“No,” Julian admitted. “Not if Lincet survives. I don’t want him holding the knowledge of what happened between you over you if you’ve decided not to tell anyone...”

Before the words were even out his mind had raced ahead, and an icy calm settled his thoughts with sudden certainty. He may not be [ _man enough,_ whispered a voice in his head] …in a position to decide if Lincet lived or died, but he _was_ in a position to determine if Lincet was capable of remembering the evening. 

The common compound in date rape drugs was notoriously difficult to detect in lab tests, and if Lincet survived no one would have any reason to test for it until, at the earliest, when he awoke with no memories of the night before – by which point it would be out of his system. If he did not survive and it showed up on an autopsy it would be passed off as being part of whatever draft he had given Garak. 

It took him only microseconds to decide to keep his idea to himself and not burden Garak with it, so by the time he ended his last sentence he was already smoothly into the next one, laying the groundwork to make it easier to accept that Lincet had lost his memories.

“…but with blood loss that severe it’s extremely unlikely Lincet will be able to remember tonight at all.”

Garak’s eyes were searching his.

“So yes, actually, if what you want is to keep this part of what happened tonight completely off the record and tell no one, then I completely support that, Garak. I want you to do what you feel will make this easiest for you.”

He was still watching his face.

“And if you don’t feel comfortable going through a sexual assault exam, then we won’t.”

“What will you tell people, when they investigate?” Garak’s voice was even now, although still hoarse. Julian was in awe of this man’s composure.

“You lost some blood and went into shock, and sustained multiple injuries. That is what I can tell the command staff in the morning. And you’re off work until further notice, under medical care, you need complete rest.”

“Odo is going to be…”

“I’ll handle him, Garak.” Moving slowly, Julian risked a warm squeeze to the other man’s hand. “If you’re all right for a moment, I’ll be right back?”

Garak nodded, his face carefully blank, but even the absence of his usual repartee was enough to unsettle Julian. Garak may be masterful at presenting a calm façade, but Julian knew he was anything but all right.

It was a simple matter to partially lift the stasis field just enough to hypospray Lincet’s neck, then with a deft flick of his hand apply the emergency butterfly stitcher device over the largest would on the man’s throat. Julian knew exactly where to stand so the infirmary cameras would only register that he was leaning over his patient, not the details of what he was doing, and he kept the hypospray palmed out of site.

The stitching could be easily explained as something he felt should be in place for the beginning of surgery, it was nothing anyone would question, and it served to explain the brief break in cryostasis should that be queried either, which he doubted.

Staring down at the immobile Cardassian, Julian had to stop his lip curling in loathing. He refused to acknowledge the flicker of guilt at what could be construed as a violation of the Hippocratic oath – removing the rapist’s memories reduced the potential of harm to his victim, and that was good enough for Julian.


End file.
